Party Tricks
by Eos92
Summary: Red and Liz attend their first undercover event since Berlin. It seems to be an easy task, but nothing with Raymond Reddington is ever as simple as it appears.
1. Party Tricks

**Party Tricks**

_A/N: This is my first attempt at fan fiction, but I find the Lizzington ship so fascinating that I felt I had to give it a shot. Any and all spelling/grammar mistakes are mine!_

_Disclaimer: Sadly I own absolutely nothing of The Blacklist or its incredible characters. _

After the incidents with Berlin, both Red and the FBI had had a slow few weeks. Everyone seemed to need to regain their bearings before proceeding. Liz had needed the time too to try and adjust to the fact that her old life was gone. Tom was out of her life as if he had never existed, though the dull ache that she felt every now and then when she remembered the lies proved that the loss was real.

She was staying with Red for the time being, and though she had not expected it to be as simple as moving all her things in, she was surprised by how closely she was being watched by the FBI. They were ok with the move, assuring her that it was best to stay on Reddington's good side for "the sake of the taskforce", but she was required to provide information on their happenings almost every day. Though the time to recoup had been good at first, Liz had begun to feel incredibly restless, which is why she nearly jumped at the opportunity to go undercover with Red when he asked her to accompany him to a large party that an old contact was throwing.

Red later revealed that this party was a masquerade ball. After trying on several outfits, all of which Red had obviously had a hand in selecting, Lizzie had opted for a floor-length, black and gold Grecian gown. Much to Red's approval, it would match his classic, three-piece tuxedo.

As they sat in the car on the way to event, Liz began to fidget and readjust her dress. Red had already complimented her outfit several times before leaving the house this evening, so she tried not to worry too much about her appearance. She needed to get out of their self-imposed isolation, but was starting to wonder if this was the smartest way to do so. She and Red had moved past the original awkwardness of the first few days that they truly lived together, but Liz still had many questions as to where they stood as partners, as friends even. Red noticed her squirming and looked at her softly before saying, "Are you ok, Lizzie?"

"Yes" she replied hurriedly, "I just don't understand why your contact wants to meet during such a huge event, or why it has to be a masquerade when he knows everyone on the guest list!"

"Ah, yes" Red said, "well the man is well-known for loving an odd combination of eccentricity and anonymity! Speaking of anonymity, you're missing a critical piece to your ensemble." He reached into a bag under the seat and presented Liz an elaborately beaded red masquerade mask. Liz couldn't conceal her smirk at his color choice, but took the mask from him appreciatively.

"Something funny?" Red questioned, failing to mask his look of concern. "Just enjoying life's convenient ironies" Liz replied, "where's your mask?" Red pulled out a stunningly silver mask and placed it on just as they pulled in to their destination. It was his turn to smirk, Liz mused, knowing that Red was fully aware of how the sharp silver accentuated his green eyes. Liz's staring was suddenly cut off as she felt Red's hand gently push her waist towards the car door and say, "after you, sweetheart."

After sharing a few dances, during which Red had once again proved his dancing abilities, he had excused himself to go and meet with his contact. Liz had sat down in the corner of a lavish ballroom, appreciating the slow but soothing piece the orchestra was currently performing. After about 45 minutes had passed, Liz decided to walk over towards the bar to wait for Red and refill her drink. She was only about a halfway across the room before she stopped dead in her tracks. There was Red, animatedly talking to a woman dressed in a nearly identical ensemble as Liz, mask and all!

Liz felt a small pang of jealously, but scolded herself almost immediately. After all, they didn't have a definitive relationship. She couldn't pretend like they belonged to one another. And for all she knew Red had mistook this mystery woman as her. The woman certainly hadn't looked to be able to get a word in edge wise so far, which was not unusual when Red was so immersed in retelling a favorite story; he was practically his own force of nature in those circumstances! Still, as he leaned in closer to the other woman, who seemed to be hanging on his every word, Liz couldn't help but feel her throat tighten up.

"Sweetheart, take a deep breath, I can practically feel you seething from over here"

Liz swung around, almost violently, only to stare at Red standing a few feet behind her.

"But..you're…I saw" Liz stuttered and gestured back towards the bar where the pair's doppelgangers stood still deep in conversation.

"Haven't you ever heard of a good party trick, Lizzie? They just seem so necessary at affairs like this!" Though it was difficult to see with his mask on, Liz could swear she saw the familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes.

"The FBI is here" Liz reminded him tensely, "watching us or watching them at least."

"Well I've always loved planting a few banana peels for dear Ressler and company. And there's nothing better than throwing the FBI off the scent when they think they have you finally all figured out. Besides, I think my associates play us quite wonderfully. After all, it almost convinced you" Red replied smugly.

"So what? All of this was for a meeting and a laugh?" Though she wouldn't outright admit it, Liz had been having a rather enjoyable evening before Red had decided to cause a scene.

"On the contrary, I felt like we have been under the FBI's personal microscope and though I am used to it at this point, I know how stressful it can be" Red said quietly, starting to move towards her. "I thought, Lizzie, that you and I could have a few moments to ourselves."

He reached out his hand and, with a small sigh, Liz grabbed it and allowed herself to be whisked towards the other side of the ballroom and out the door. They walked a few feet until Red gently tugged her into a side door that led to a small library. He sat down on a couch towards the end of the room, pulled off his mask, and set it on a small table. Liz felt obliged to do the same.

"I just want to talk, Lizzie. The FBI is watching my contact tonight more than us," Red whispered, noting her obvious nervousness towards their disappearing act. "I know that apart from Dembe and a few co-workers I've been the only real company you've had lately, but I can't help but notice you stealing glances at me when you think I'm preoccupied with something else. I don't have a problem with it, of course, but I would like to find an explanation"

Liz felt the urge to shrink into herself, but resisted. After all, she was a profiler by trade and two could play this game. "And if I am?" she retorted, suddenly feeling like she could gain the upper hand for once. "As if you can say that you don't hold eye contact with me for a little too long? Like I haven't noticed that you 'accidentally' feel the need to touch my waist or my hand as we pass each other in the house? Like I don't see your gaze drop to my lips almost every time that I'm speaking with you? You're even doing it right now!" Liz blurted out, unsure if she was breathless from her sudden outburst or because of what she was confessing.

Though she was unsure of it before, there was now no mistaking the glint in Red's eyes. "Well Lizzie, you've caught me there. I certainly wasn't expecting such a forthright response. I just wanted to talk, maybe discuss our developing partnership, but what can I say? I find your lips quite distracting."

Before Liz was even able to form a response, Red's lips were on her own. It was hard and demanding until Liz let out the breath she seemed to have been holding with a contented sigh. Then both mouths relaxed against each other, developing a slow but desperate rhythm. Red's tongue begged entrance determinedly, seemingly intent on exploring all her mouth had to offer. After another minute, Red stopped the kiss and Liz felt the same breathless feeling she had been experiencing all night, only this time she happily noticed that Red seemed to be struggling to compose himself too.

"As interested as I am in continuing this conversation and the enjoyable aftermath, the party is nearly coming to an end and I'm sure our friends will be wanting to debrief you before we are officially done for the night" he said quickly.

"Alright, let's head back before they notice something's amiss then" Liz agreed. As they moved to stand up and leave the room, Liz brushed past him and said, "Oh and Red? I hope that wasn't the only trick you have up your sleeves."


	2. Makes You Sorry

Chapter Two:

_A/N: _First, I want to thank everyone for actually taking the time to read my little story and then reviewing/messaging and everything! Since this is my first time ever writing fanfiction, it has been incredibly helpful to get feedback of any sort.

So I have decided to make this into a three-part story. This short chapter was inspired by the brilliant John Lennon and Paul McCartney and the song "Girl" and is much more introspective / a bit more angst-driven than the first part. Lyrics to the song are shown in bold text. Any spelling/grammar mistakes are mine alone. Let me know what you think!

_**Is there anybody going to listen to my story? All about the girl who came to stay. **_

Seemingly oblivious to their earlier Houdini-like stunt, the FBI had debriefed both Red and Liz rather quickly and the pair had followed Dembe to the car. Most of the drive was spent in silence, but Red had kept his hand over Lizzie's the entire time. He had looked up at the right moment to catch Dembe giving him a knowing, but concerned look. Red quickly and pointedly shot back a warning glance back at his best friend. Red had enough of concerns of his own to wade through without adding Dembe's to the list at the moment. As they pulled up to the house, Red held on to Lizzie's hand until they got inside. He kissed her on the cheek, not wanting to overstep any tentative boundaries that had been rewritten tonight.

"Sweetheart" he began in a low tone, "as much as I want to continue tonight's discussion, I'm finding myself strangely exhausted. I'll have to excuse myself and retire for the evening. Perhaps I may even sleep for a few hours."

Lizzie smiled warmly at him, knowing how rarely he was able to indulge in any sort of relaxation. She could see that their relationship was changing, and while she would've loved to spend more time with him this evening, she agreed that taking time to collect their thoughts was the most practical option for the time being.

"Go try and relax," she said soothingly. And, as if she could read his mind, Lizzie added, "I'll still be here in the morning, don't worry."

Red felt his throat constrict a little at her words and hurriedly excused himself. As he walked into his bedroom, Red knew that his excuse to leave Lizzie after returning home was only a half-truth, as it almost always was when it came to his explanations towards her. Red sat on his bed feeling exhausted, but soon realized he was more emotionally spent than physically. While he had indulged in fantasies of him and Lizzie being able to be together, they were nothing more than a means to pass the time, a motivator in his darkest hours, or a refuge from madness when he was overwhelmed with a new, daunting task in front of him.

Now that Lizzie had not only shown that she willingly trusted him, but agreed to stay with him Red was uncharacteristically at a loss. There were very few people who allowed Red that type of trust, and even fewer that he permitted himself to trust in the same way.

_**She's the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry… **_

Every time he looked at Lizzie, Red wanted so badly to feel sorry for having such strong feelings towards her. The smartest option, Red surmised sadly, would be to tell Lizzie that tonight had been a mistake and demand that their relationship remained in the friendship purgatory that it had been dangling in throughout the last few weeks. While Red knew that was the best option, he couldn't imagine making Lizzie feel rejected or, he thought selfishly, not getting to see where this would lead.

He realized that their relationship was complicated before the mutual attraction had even been acknowledged. Though it wasn't by blood, Lizzie was his best friend's child. He wanted to see her and think of her as Sam's daughter and nothing more, but that had never and could never be the case. Oh yes, he saw parts of Sam in Lizzie every day, the man had raised her after all, but Red and Lizzie had been connected since before Lizzie was ever carried across Sam's threshold. Red was Lizzie's own angel and monster, her torturer and savior, punisher and pleaser. He had destroyed her life and rebuilt it when she was a child. Now history had repeated itself once again when he was reintroduced to the volatile force that Lizzie had become as a woman.

In turn, Lizzie personified the fire that Red so vividly remembered. There was pain and suffering to endure, but she was an all-consuming force, a light in the darkness that had enveloped his world for so long. He felt powerless against her at times, and often thought that he was deriving his happiness from her own.

**Still you don't regret a single day. **

Red rested against the headboard still trying to make sense of the evening's events. He had once told Lizzie that she only needed to tell him to go and he would disappear. Though he still would make good on his promise if she asked him to leave, he knew that this evolution in their relationship had made that possibility much harder. He couldn't fool himself into thinking that he and Lizzie were one in the same; the years apart had shaped them into different people. But here they were, two lonely people trying to make sense of this new chapter in their lives.

**A girl, a girl...**

Raymond Reddington had risen out of the ashes that had replaced his once near-perfect life. He had become a legend in his own right. He was responsible for helping topple governments, placing leaders into positions of power, and making a fortune in the process. So while it baffled him that it had happened, there was no point in denying the obvious; Raymond Reddington's reality was rapidly changing because of a single person. A girl, his Lizzie. He was a betting man when he could control the odds, but he thought, quietly laughing to himself, that Lizzie was as unpredictable as they come.


End file.
